Erased
by oliviarrrr
Summary: Draco wakes up in St. Mungo's with a slight headache. He's fine, apart from one minor issue... He has no idea who anyone is. Dramione! EWE
1. Little Dragon

**A/N: **Hello! This is the first fanfiction I've written in about eight years, so go easy on me. Also, I'm really sorry if this idea has been done before, but I've not come across one like this yet so hopefully it's all good. I hope you like it! Please leave a review so I know if you like it. Or if anyone is actually reading it. Heh.

Also - the first two chapters are/will be quite short! It's just to get the story going and set up. They'll be much longer by the third chapter, I promise! I understand it's annoying/boring when there's not much to read.

Enjoy!

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**Little Dragon**

Draco Malfoy awoke in what appeared to be a hospital. His head was pounding. He tentatively turned to view his surroundings, and was surprised to see a mature, handsome woman sleeping in a chair next to his bed, her should-be-peaceful face contorted with a look of worry.

"Hello?" He tried, his voice croaky and sore. What the hell was going on?

The woman twitched slightly, but slept on. He sighed inwardly. He knew he must be at St. Mungo's, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out _why. _Aside from the headache, he felt fine. A door at the other end of the room opened and a motherly-looking Healer walked in.

"HELLO," Draco barked. Kind of. His voice was incredibly scratchy and he had a feeling that he was coming across as pathetic rather than intimidating.

The Healer's head shot up, and upon realising who had spoken, a warm smile spread across her face. "Mr. Malfoy! You're awake! Oh, thank Goodness, dear, we've all been very worried about you," she cooed, bustling over to his bed. "You've been out for days, now."

"Do you mind telling me what I'm doing here?" Draco snapped.

A flash of surprise crossed her face before she said, "Don't - don't you remember? You had a very nasty accident, dear. You fell off your broom-"

"Nonsense," Draco scoffed. "I am _Draco. Lucius. Malfoy_. I do not _fall_ off my _broom_. I have never done that. Not once. Not even when I was still learning to fly."  
The Healer smiled at him condescendingly. "It happens to the best of them, dear. You hit your head, anyway. Multiple times. Hard." She looked like she was suppressing a smirk. Draco narrowed his eyes and gave her his greatest "I am superior to you" glare.

"Well, listen here, witch," he began, but before he could finish his scathing remark, the woman next to him stirred. Opening one bleary eye, she saw Draco staring at her, and she shrieked in delight.

"Oh, Draco! You're awake! You're alright! Oh, darling!" She cried, hugging him to her chest.

He was horrified. There were no words that could even begin to convey his horror. He cleared his throat, awkwardly, and slowly pushed her off of him. "Would you mind telling me who you are and why you think that - that _hug_ - was appropriate?"

The older woman paled. She looked at the Healer in despair. "What? What does he mean? Does he not know who I am? Miriam, please!"

The Healer - Miriam, Draco supposed - was frowning. "It appears Mr. Malfoy must have hit his head harder than we thought. He seems to have lost part of his memory. We can salvage it, of course, using Memory Potion, but who's to say how long that could take... It could be anything from days to years."

The woman wailed. Draco was stunned. He'd lost his memory? But he knew who he was. He was Draco Malfoy. He was a wizard. An important one, at that. He loved Quidditch, Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, and, most of all, irritating others. But... which others? Draco frowned, trying to remember, and realising he couldn't. He couldn't recall a single person in his life. He knew no one. That couldn't be right, everyone knew someone. No one lived to be 25 without meeting at least one other person, surely. A sudden thought struck him. He turned to stare at the wailing woman in horror. Was this... Was this his _wife_? Surely not! The woman was old enough to be his mother!

"How can you not remember your own mother? Narcissa! Narcissa Malfoy! Your mummy!" The woman sobbed. Oh. Well. That explains it. Draco felt slightly relieved. Thank Merlin she wasn't his wife.

Once the relief had gone, awkwardness crept up on him. He patted her hand in an attempt to console her. He had no idea why he thought that would work, as all she did was cry louder. He groaned. "Erm, Miss - mother. Mother. Please do stop making that horrendous noise. I already have a headache, I am not in need of a migraine." Immediately, the woman - his _mother_ - quietened down to mere sniffles. "You heard what the round one said," he reminded her, in what he was hoping was a nice tone of voice. "They'll give me Memory Potion. I'll be fine." Miriam, upon realising that she was 'the round one', let out an indignant snort.

His mother, however, was nodding eagerly, and she turned to face Miriam. "So," she said hopefully, "what can we do to help him?"

Miriam was glaring at the back of Draco's head. Without looking at Narcissa, she replied, "oh, we'll give him a fresh cup of Memory Potion each day and hope for the best, really, dear. You can fill him in on relations, tell him stories of people he knows, that sort of thing. Anything could trigger a memory. A face, a voice, a story... It could be something or someone completely irrelevant. For example, we had a case like this a few years ago, and it was the woman's old Nanny from thirty years ago that restored all her memories. Very odd, dear. Yes, very odd..."

Draco refrained from rolling his eyes. The round one kept babbling on and his mother was nodding along. After five minutes - five long, torturous minutes - he interrupted. "So what? Can I leave? Do I have to stay? Are you ever going to stop talking? Oh, life's most mysterious questions."

If looks could kill. The glare Miriam was giving Draco made him squirm. "Unfortunately," she hissed, "you'll have to stay for at least a month so we can monitor your brain activity."

Draco flopped ungracefully into his pillow. He hated the hospital. He wasn't sure why.

"Well, my little dragon, I have to leave," his mother said.

"Mother," Draco said through his teeth. His jaw was twitching he'd clenched it that hard. "Do not, and I repeat, do _not_ call me that in public ever again."

Narcissa looked puzzled. "What? 'My little dragon'? But... I always call you that, Draco. You've always been my little dragon," she frowned. She looked like she was going to start crying again. Draco couldn't deal with that.

"Fine!" He said, hurriedly, eyes slightly wide with fear. "Fine, it's fine, you can call me that. Don't cry."

"I - I won't," she sniffled back. "I'll be back later, with your father." Oh. Well. There's also a father. Two parents. Good? "I'm just going to meet him for lunch, now, actually. I'll see you later, my darling boy. Mummy loves you." She kissed his forehead and swept out of the room, giving him one final, sad, lingering look before she disappeared.

Miriam was cackling. "My little dragon! Mummy loves you!"

Draco almost regretted his harsh attitude to her. Almost. Instead of allowing the flush to creep across his face like it was threatening to, he settled on a well-thought-out, highly intelligent, witty and scathing response. "Fuck off, Miriam."

* * *

His mother had been gone for well over an hour and Draco was bored. He had nothing to do. After asking one of the Healers if there was any way to keep himself occupied, the only response he'd received was something about a volunteer group. He kept groaning as loudly as his sore throat would allow, hoping someone would hear and take pity on him. Just as he was about to groan again, the door opened, and a Healer walked in with a girl in tow.

Draco's mouth fell open. She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. She had long, thick, curly brown hair with sunkissed streaks, dainty features, soft-looking pink lips and those _eyes_. Big, brown and inquisitive. He couldn't stop staring. He was nearly drooling. God, he must look so gormless right now, but he couldn't stop. He needed to switch on the charm.

"And who," he purred, using his sexiest sexy sex voice, "might this beautiful young lady be?"

The girl's head snapped towards him and a look of alarm spread across her pretty face. She turned back towards the Healer and started shaking her head, spouting words he couldn't hear. He got the general gist of it, though. She did not want to talk to him. Draco's stomach churned. He wanted to get to know her, wanted her to come over. Thankfully, the Healer seemed to be calming her down, saying something about his memory. She started laughing. It was such a pretty laugh, infectious, and Draco started smiling at her hopefully. The girl waved goodbye to the Healer and came to sit with him. Draco refrained from dancing.

"Hello," she greeted him, a large smile on her face. "How are we feeling?"

"You mean despite the memory loss, sore throat and deathly headache? I'm on top of the world," he drawled. She hid her laugh behind a small, pretty hand. Draco wondered how her hand was pretty. He didn't know pretty hands were a thing. He didn't really have anyone to compare her to, though. "Although I must say, I'm feeling much better now you're here," he added, giving her a dazzling smile.

She literally squealed with delight. Draco smirked to himself. Still got it. The ol' Malfoy charm. Making the ladies weak at the knees. Maybe. The only lady he knew was his mother. And Miriam, but she hardly counted.

"So you have no idea who I am?" she asked, grin getting wider by the second.

"No," he confessed. "Should I?"

"I'm Hermione," she replied. "Hermione Granger. Any bells?"  
"None at all. Are you my girlfriend? Or an ex-girlfriend?" He hoped it was the former. He would never have let such a beautiful girl leave him.

She started howling with laughter. Draco flushed. Maybe she wasn't a former flame, then. "We went to school together," Hermione said through fits of giggles.

"Why is that funny?"

"Oh, er... We didn't like each other very much. You were very, very rude."

Draco gasped with genuine surprise. No wonder she was laughing so much.

"Oh, I can't wait to tell Ron! It'll be like an early birthday present for him!"

Draco stiffened. He didn't know her or this 'Ron'. He suddenly felt very defensive and vulnerable. He couldn't let this girl take advantage of him, no matter how pretty she was. "Ron," he said to her, "is a very stupid name. Did his mother not love him?"

Hermione snorted, an amused twinkle in her eye. "Your name is Draco."

He puffed up his chest. "A respectable name!"

"I see," she replied, one eyebrow raised. "Well, _Draco_, I'll be leaving you now. Good luck with the memory thing." She stood up and turned to leave, but in a fit of panic, Draco grabbed her wrist.

"Don't leave. There's nothing here to do and no one to talk to."

Hermione frowned. "I'm sorry, but I just can't stand you. You repulse me."

Draco let go of her wrist, mortified. He kept his expression guarded. As lonely and bored as he was, and as much as her words had hurt, he was a Malfoy. And although he didn't know any Malfoys, he was pretty sure he had a reputation to uphold. It was a gut instinct. He would not let her embarrass him. He drew in all his strength and sneered at her. "Fine. Leave, Hermione," he spat her name. "Thank you SO. MUCH. for the excellent volunteer work you've provided. I feel so much better now."

She rolled her pretty eyes. Draco hated her for a split second. "Whatever, Malfoy. Have fun being bored, ferret. Maybe spending some time alone will give you a chance to reflect on what a magnificent twat you are." She flounced at of the room, curly hair bouncing.

He groaned. A real one, this time, and not just a "WILL SOMEONE PLEASE PITY ME" groan. How could he reflect on what a 'magnificent twat' he was when he had no recollection of anyone at all?

And what the fuck did she mean by 'ferret'?


	2. Eight Times in Three Days

******A/N: **I know that this is a slow start and I'm sorrrrrrryyyyyyyyyyy but it has to be somewhat realistic! Anyway, I hoped you enjoy it. I promise that the next chapter will be much longer. Please review and let me know what you think!

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**Eight Times in Three**** Days**

Draco was bored. It has been three days since he'd woken up with no memory of any of the people in his life. Three long, exhausting days. A few "friends" had been to visit him - a shrill, nasty woman named Pansy, an arrogant, vain man named Blaise and a quiet boy named Theo who looked more like a rabbit than a human. Blaise seemed alright enough, aside from the fact he was clearly very much in love with his own reflection. Draco thought that maybe Blaise was secretly happy Draco had lost his memories as it gave him an excuse to talk endlessly about himself. Theo was somewhat nice, albeit very shy, but he was also rather boring. And Pansy... God, _Pansy_. Constantly making evil remarks about everyone and everything. She was driving Draco crazy. She'd been to visit eight times over the course of three days. Eight. Times. In. Three. Days. Draco literally quivered with fear the last time he saw her enter the room. He couldn't believe these people were his _friends_. These were people he willingly spent time with. People associated with. Granted, he was hoping it was because (apparently) they'd been in the same House together at school, but school ended seven years ago and he still spent time with them. Draco was slightly horrified. He decided that he was going to use the memory loss to his advantage and make friends with new people. People who were kind, interesting and _not_ completely lost up their own arse.

On the plus side, his parents seemed nice. He liked his mother very much, she clearly doted on him. She kept stopping by with little sweets and presents and she kept stroking his hair. His father obviously loved him too and was highly concerned about his memory loss. Miriam, the round one, had been supplying Draco with a dose of Memory Potion once an hour every hour, but there was still no progress. His father had been furious. He'd been somewhat malicious to Miriam, seemed to think it was her fault that Draco didn't know anyone - but, as Draco himself had pointed out, it wasn't Miriam's fault he'd had an accident on his broom. According to his mother, Lucius had been practically beside himself when he found out that Draco had fallen off his broomstick. Draco didn't find this hard to believe, as the first thing his father had said to him once he'd come to visit wasn't, "hello, I'm your father," or even, "how are you feeling?" but instead: "Would you care to explain to me exactly how you fell off your broomstick? You've been flying the damn things since before you could walk!"

Once Draco had overcome his initial shock at some strange, angry blond man storming into his room and shouting at him, he had quickly formed a friendship with his father. He actually looked forward to seeing both him and his mother. But, as it stands, neither of them were with him at the moment, and he was very, very bored. He'd been doing nothing but laying about in his bed waiting for someone to visit him. As long as that someone wasn't Pansy, he was content.

At exactly two o'clock, Miriam bustled her way in holding another glass of Memory Potion.

"Be a dear and drink this for me," she said as she thrust the drink into his hand.

"I hate it," he informed her, but drank it anyway, the sour taste making lips purse.

"I'm aware, dear, you keep telling me," she retorted, hands on hips. A smile danced over her homely face anyway. Despite his initial hatred for her, Draco quite liked the woman now and thoroughly enjoyed their snide remarks and nasty banter.

"Stop making me drink it, then, you hag."

She slapped his head. "I have a terrible surprise for you," she said, a sudden evil grin on her face. Draco groaned. He really hoped she wasn't going to say what he thought she was going to say. "Pansy Parkinson is downstairs demanding we let her see you." Oh sweet Salazar, she said it. Draco groaned even louder. "We told her you were sleeping, but now we definitely know you're awake... I'll go get her for you, shall I...?"

"Merlin, Miriam, I am begging you, do not let her in here. I can't deal with it. She's so... So... Horrid!" Draco shuddered, recalling when she was here just a mere three hours ago and she'd been laughing at a man who'd had half his face burned off in a freak accident. Something about a charm backfiring. 'Backfiring' indeed, what an understatement. "I'd rather spend the next six hours bored senseless than have to listen to her drivel on for one more minute."

Miriam gave him a sympathetic smile. "I know you're bored, dear, but we have to keep you here to we can monitor you. We only want you to get better. I, personally, am praying that you get better sooner rather than later so I don't have to put up with you anymore."

Draco shot her a withering look.

"Oh, alright... I think you're well enough to get out of bed, at least. What say we get you out of this room, hm? We have a recreational room where you can listen to the radio, read books and play games - socialise with other patients, maybe. There's also the garden outside if you want some sun on your face. Merlin knows you need it, you pallid little demon. Oh, and there's the café upstairs!" Miriam listed off quickly. Draco ignored the insult and was just deeply grateful for the chance to actually _do_ something other than lay in bed.

"I think I'll go the café, you know," he mused. "Get a nice cup of coffee and a meal that doesn't taste like sh- ow!" Miriam had hit him again.

"Don't be such an ingrate or I'll tell Pansy you're not sleeping after all!" She warned. "Now, go on, off with you - be back by three so I can give you some more potion. Cafe's on the fifth floor, dear," she added with a warm smile.

Draco practically skipped out the room and ran up to the fifth floor. He'd practically been dreaming of pumpkin juice and cauldron cakes... And also maybe an actual meal so that his mother wouldn't go on at him about his diet. Merlin knows she'd already made enough sly remarks about his weight in the short time that he'd known her. His father had told him that she was constantly fretting about his weight, though, saying he wasn't eating enough and that he was too tall to be so skinny. It was annoying, but Draco dealt with it. He wouldn't have minded so much but he really wasn't that skinny. He was just average.

Draco slid into a booth holding some juice and a cake and was patiently waiting for his steak and kidney pie to arrive when he noticed a newspaper on the seat across from him. Picking it up, he glanced over the moving pictures before seeing the headline.

_**The Daily Prophet**_

_**THE BOY WHO LIVED IS EXPECTING HIS FIRST CHILD!**_

_Harry Potter, the saviour of the wizarding world, and his beautiful wife, Ginevra Potter (n__é__e Weasley), captain of renowned Quidditch team the Holyhead Harpies, are expecting their first child together after almost six years of marriage. When asked to comment, Potter was practically beaming with excitement as he told us, "it's a dream! I can't believe it!" It has long been known that the happy couple have been trying for a baby, and both seem overjoyed that Mrs. Potter has finally fallen pregnant. The pair have denied further comment and the due date of the child is unknown, as well as the sex or any possible names. All Mr. Potter had to say was, "you'll find out at some point, I'm sure!" before he gave us a cheeky wink and scurried off with his wife._

Next to the article was a picture of this Harry and Ginevra stood in front of what appeared to be their home. Ginevra was holding her small bump and Harry had an arm wrapped around his wife. Both were grinning madly and waving at the camera. Harry kept occasionally giving Ginevra kisses on her nose and forehead. It was... cute.

_Saviour of the wizarding world?_ Draco thought, bewildered. In the picture, Harry Potter didn't look like much. Just a nice, normal, happy man with a nice, normal, happy wife. Looks can be deceiving, though, and Draco didn't doubt that this man had clearly done something exceptional to have obtained such an impressive title. Otherwise, how would he have made the front page of a newspaper just because he'd knocked up his wife?

As Draco put down the paper and glanced around to see if his food was on the way yet, he caught a familiar flash of curly brown hair. Before he knew what he was doing, he was out of his seat and running over to her, calling out her name.

"Hermione? Hermione!" He yelled, waving. "It's me! Draco!"

Hermione turned around, startled, but upon laying her eyes on Draco, her pretty face twisted into a look of disgust. "Oh. Er, hello, Malfoy."

Draco stopped, arm still half in the air. He lowered it slowly, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. He'd forgotten she hated him. He cleared his throat nervously and asked her how she was.

"I'm... fine," she stated, eyeing him wearily. "Still not got your memories back?"

"No," he sighed. "I've met a few of my friends, though. God, they're _awful_."

Despite herself, Hermione started laughing. Draco grinned. He felt proud that he'd made this stoic girl actually laugh. A genuine laugh!

"Yes, they are," Hermione agreed, still chuckling. "Have you met Pansy yet?"

"She's the worst one! Merlin, she's such a cow! And she seems to think I love her or something! That's the reason I'm out of bed, actually, I'm trying to escape her. I believe she's still downstairs shouting at the staff and demanding to see me," he confided, paling slightly at the thought. "Hermione, this is the ninth time she's been to visit me in three days. Three. Salazar, save me..."

Hermione started laughing again, before saying, "Bloody hell, some things just never change. The girl was insufferable at school, it sounds like she's even worse now. She fawned after you all the time back then, as well. You dated, you know."

Draco's mouth fell open in horror. Hermione dissolved into a fit of giggles. "I - I would never - NEVER - oh my goodness - no - NEVER - she's so awful-" he spluttered, mortified. "No wonder she keeps touching me!"

"I can't believe you don't remember anyone," Hermione said, looking him up and down. "You seem... Nice?"

Draco nodded. "Despite the fact that I'm infinitely superior to everyone I've met so far, I'd say I'm quite nice too," he drawled, but winked to let her know he was joking. He sobered slightly before saying, "to be honest, after meeting the people I've apparently been keeping company with, I'm not surprised you don't like me."

"Believe it or not, Malfoy," Hermione smiled, amused, "but you're actually the worst one. You're worse than Pansy."

Draco groaned. He was starting to worry that groaning might become his 'thing', if he wasn't careful. "Well, believe it or not, Hermione, but after meeting those people I've had a change of heart about who I want to be."

Hermione's eyebrows disappeared into her fringe. "Is that so?"

"Yes, I think I need better friends, if I'm going to be honest. And I'd like to start with you, actually," he gave her a hopeful smile. He'd already made her laugh, she'd not yet tried to hex him, and so far she'd not told him that he repulsed her. Granted, Draco was fully expecting to be shot down - and he wouldn't blame her - but as it turned out, he was pleasantly surprised.

"You'd like to be my friend?" Hermione frowned. Draco nodded eagerly. He immediately regretted that action. Draco Malfoy did not _nod eagerly._ He was an embarrassment. A disgrace! HE HAD BESMIRCHED THE FAMILY NAME- "Fine."

"...What?"

"Fine, I'll, erm, be your friend. I suppose. I can't see why not, really. You seem nice, now, and you don't like your friends, so at least we have that in common," Hermione grinned. Draco felt relief tear through his chest. Progress! Hermione had gone from "you repulse me" to "you seem nice." Albeit, she'd said he seemed nice _now_, but it was a start. "I'll tell you what," she said, "I'll see you tomorrow. I'm just about to leave, actually, I have some patients to go read to - but I'll be back tomorrow during my lunch hour, so I'll see you then?"

Draco could barely get the words out. "Yesh. Yeah, even. Yes. Sorry. Yes, I'll see you tomorrow." She humoured him with a confused laugh, before waving a pretty hand in goodbye and exiting the café.

Draco slid back into his booth, surprised but pleased at the exchange that had just happened. He was surprised to realise he only had twenty minutes left before he had to get back to Miriam for his Memory Potion. Two minutes later, a waiter handed him his steak and kidney pie, and Draco almost cried with happiness at how heavenly it was. As he devoured it, his mind raced back to Hermione and how he was going to be seeing her tomorrow. He couldn't wait. There was something so... _warm_ about her. He wanted to get to know her, wanted to remember her - although he had a feeling it was probably a good thing that his memories of her had been erased. He'd not cared for his friends, he thought his parents were okay, but this girl... This woman, he needed her in his life.

_Well, Malfoy,_ he thought to himself as he rammed the last few bites of pie into his mouth. _Don't ruin your chance._


End file.
